


The Lonely Burden of Sin

by LostInNightmares



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Edward Elric, Hurt Roy Mustang, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2020-05-20 09:53:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19374313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostInNightmares/pseuds/LostInNightmares
Summary: The path of sin is often paved with good intentions. The ability to understand right from wrong still differs from the ability to internalize what is for the best, and what should be left alone. It can easily be said that we made a mistake, an unforgivable mistake at that. I understand now that what I thought was right was clouded by selfishness, by the inability to let go of what would have been a beautiful memory. The mental punishment is enough in itself, knowing that my actions affected every single person I cared about like a crimson tide, furious and unrelenting. But the pain, the deep itching pain that scrapes me raw from the inside out, is something I haven’t learned to cope with. The whispering in my mind, the crushing feeling in my soul, the torment I face daily, alone, the pain of feeling my body unravel from the inside out… It’s my pain. I’ve put enough on others, I have to learn how to deal with my own shit, at least the shit that I caused.But I still haven’t figured out how.** IF you are easily triggered by the mention of suicidal ideation, please do not read this. **





	1. A Decision Made With Haste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there. I am new to AO3 as an author, but not new to writing fiction works. Before joining AO3 I was an author on FanFiction.net, which I'm sure qualifies me for a senior discount. And after that, I moved onto Wattpad, but that soon died out too.
> 
> So here I am.
> 
> Please enjoy this work of mine. It is Roy/Ed, mainly to satisfy my hurt/comfort addiction. 
> 
> This chapter will be brief! Please enjoy the beginning of the self torture :)

We finally made the decision to go back to central, a decision made with haste, and with severe dread. It was difficult to force myself into his space. There were too many painful memories that surrounded the area. So much damage that I had caused, and that I continue to cause. 

Al had been bugging me incessantly lately to return, yearning for their expansive library. It felt impossible to deny him any longer. He had exhausted every resource that I had dug up for him. He was bored, complacent. It was truly the least I could do to aid him, at least until we got our bodies back.

 But it didn’t stop my heart from pounding at the thought of stepping foot into that building. The stares, the glum expressions, the sorry eyes. The insurmountable shame I felt from their never ending pity. It was suffocating me.  
  
And him.

 The idea of having to face him was one that crushed my brain. Every itch, every whisper, was amplified with the thought of dealing with him. My soul was decaying, and it was impossible to not sense that. The last thing I needed was his terse attitude and tough guy mentality shoved into every orifice of my body.

 I hated him. No, I hate him.

 Alphonse, who senses the tension, quietly follows behind. 

 “Brother, are you-”

 “What’s the first thing you’re going to go digging for in that library?”

 He seems taken aback initially, but quickly retracts his initial thought.

 “I’m not entirely sure. I love research, but I think I need something just for me personally,” he said softly.

 “Maybe you can find a book about cats or something like that. You love those things,” I said, offering him a weak smile.

 “Brother, they are not, ‘things,’ they’re soft cute little creatures. Have you ever looked at their paws? Their cute little toes? How can you despise something so cute and small?” Al gushed.

 I just shake my head and laugh a little. I am thankful that Al still finds little things like this so pleasing. He has such a fervour for life even though I was the one that destroyed it. I was the one who made it so that he can’t feel their soft fur on his fingers, and feel the purring against his skin. I don’t really hate cats. I hate that I can enjoy them in ways that he cannot.

 Even so, he still loves them.

 We near the steps of central and I feel a tightness begin to build in my chest. My skin starts to tingle before going numb, and my chest constricts more. I hate this place. 

 Al starts to quicken his pace, and runs for the steps. He’s always so excited to see everyone and say hello.

 “Come on brother! We have to make sure we see everyone! I’m sure they would love to see us. It’s been so long,” he laughed, the sound of his voice echoing in the suit of armor.

 “Yeah, of course,” I smiled, making my way up the steps. I stare at the ground, trying to shake the images from my mind that only seem to become more vivid the closer I get to the building. The telephone hanging, the line going dead. More collateral damage of my existence.

 I breathe deeply and pick my head up, walking through the double doors and following Al into the building. Heads begin to turn. Whispers begin to quietly spread until it becomes a dreadful murmur.

 “Hey boss! Long time no see. You should have called,” Havoc grabs my arm and pulls me into a choke hold, ruffling my hair.

 My nostrils fill with the smell of cigarettes, and yet it’s comforting.

 “It was a spur of the moment decision really,” Al chirped.

 Havoc releases me and shakes hands with Al.

 “You guys been up to anything good lately? You’ve been MIA for almost a year now. Can I assume that maybe you’ve finally made some progress with that cute blonde mechanic?” 

 “We’re just friends you pervert,” I said through gritted teeth, feeling my face flush.

 “Well, make sure you say hi to everyone. They certainly miss you,” Havoc said.

 I nod at him and part ways. There is more dread building in my body. Socializing was never really my forte, but I feel obligated to do so for Al’s sake.

 I watch him bounce down the halls, exchanging small words with everyone. I feel myself keeping watch of the open lobby. I know that I am bound to bump into him, but there is a small part of me that hopes that I we can just hide in the library at least for the majority of our time here.

The truth is I’m a coward.

 “Alright, why don’t we go find Sheska. She said she may have a few things for us,” I said. 

 Sheska can hardly contain her excitement once we arrive at the library wing.

 “I’ve been looking through these documents for months!” She said, pulling out several books and journals.

 “Alchemy, anatomy, physics-”

“Do you have any books on animals?” Al asked sheepishly, cutting her off.

 “Oh, um, I do. I have many actually,” she said.

 “While she looks for your books, do you mind if I grab a few of these and settle somewhere? We can meet up after?” I asked.

 Al nods, and I grab a few books from the counter and make my way deep into the mazes of shelving. I find a closed off area and begin to dig into the documents. 

 

In the library I feel the most at ease. Its quiet, dimly lit, and full of resources and distractions. I can lose myself in research for hours. The worst thing about having down time is having time to think. It starts off as normal drifting, but then begins to devolve slowly. Each thought branches off into darker places, and the conversation in my head seems to go in circles with no end. That is the worst part about thinking about life; there is no answer to the questions that plague my mind, and no one can offer any insight because it's so specific to myself. 

 

So, I read and I think about the questions that do have answers. It's safer that way. 

 “Am I to assume that you’re avoiding me Fullmetal?”

 I feel myself jump out of my skin as Roy steps out from behind me.

 “What the fuck Mustang, do you find it appropriate to sneak up on people in a library?” I slam my book close and glare up at him. His expression is a mix of disappointment and anger.

 He really hasn’t changed much. I’m not sure what I expected. 

 “Do you find it appropriate to dodge your superior for a year?” 

 I felt my heart drop a little, and I look away.

 “It was not intentional. I had a lot to look into,” I brush him off.

“You can feed that bullshit to just about anyone. I’m a little insulted that you attempted to feed it to me.”

 My chest begins to feel empty, and it aches. I look up at him and his features have softened a bit. 

 “It’s none of your business anyways,” I said.

 He sucks his teeth and takes a step towards me.

 “Well, regardless of how you feel, we need to talk. You can’t just go AWOL and return like nothing happened. I see that Al has been turning your reports in on your behalf, which has saved your ass. But you can’t avoid me forever,” he said.

 “What is there to talk about Roy? You told me to get my shit together, and I have been. I’ve done enough research to recite entire journals from memory. I’ve trained every fucking day. I only took your advice. It seems that in spite of that, you still can’t be pleased,” I spat.

 For a moment, he seemed remorseful, but that fleeted quickly.

“You’re obviously in no place to talk, so you know where I will be.”  
  
He wavered briefly before turning to leave.

 

“Please come by,” he said as he walked away.

And like that, the hollowness in my chest deepened.


	2. The Price of Living

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, I hope the first chapter was pleasing to you. I'm not entirely sure what I will do with this work, but I do intend for it to be on the longer side. Mainly character development? This chapter serves the purpose of providing more background with Edward's suffering, and current state of mind. 
> 
> In case anyone is curious, the timeline is about 3 years after the death of Hughes, and is set off the traditional timeline of Brotherhood, meaning it does not follow the plot to perfection beyond this point. Edward would be around 18, and would have dealt with everything leading up to Ling's arrival, however they have not met yet in this work. 
> 
> **

The living quarters at central were luxurious compared to some of the places that Al and I have stayed. More often than not, we settled outside on benches, in alley ways, or sometimes in the woods. Money wasn’t an issue, but we were always on foot, so we just stopped when we were tired. 

Regardless, the beds were cold and hard, and the room had little to no ventilation whatsoever. It was almost suffocating, but that could be my mind as well. 

Following my conversation with the colonel, I still felt uneasy. There were a lot of things keeping us from meeting again. Mostly my cowardice. There is a certain amount of responsibility that I still feel for how things ended. It seems that everywhere I go, I cause more trouble, and ruin more lives. I’m a whirlwind of disaster and I’m not really sure how to contain it.

 So, since my last time in central, I decided to work on that. Containing my shit and not letting it affect others. The best way to do that: avoid contact with everyone and everything. 

Al always talked about exploring more anyways, so it felt like I was doing him a favor. The longer we were away, the more I began to feel comfortable with the idea of never coming back. I held my letter of resignation in my hand more times than I could count, with the desire to just mail it back to central with my State Alchemist badge. Being charged for desertion seemed worth it at the time. However, if I were ever brought up on charges before getting our bodies back, I would just be doing Al another disservice.

 I’ve let him down enough.

 Alphonse was still at the library. I took our things back to the room and tried to unpack a little. I figured he might appreciate a little time alone anyways. We spent almost every second of the day together, I’m sure he’s sick of me by now. 

 I laid on my back and began to stare at the ceiling. Times like these were dangerous. They gave me too much time to think. I’m tired of being stuck in my own mind. Existing is painful, and lonely. I could spend every minute of my life doing something that I loved, but it doesn’t change the fact that I am still me, and that I am ultimately stuck with myself. 

 There is a sudden knock on the door and I look up.

 “Fullmetal?”

 I deflate and direct my attention back at the ceiling.

 “Fuck off Mustang,” I yelled.

 "Can you stop being a child for just a minute and open the door?” He sounded annoyed. 

 “You said when I’m ready. I’m not ready. Just leave me alone.” I furrow my eyebrows in frustration and can feel the tension building.

 There is no answer, no retort, just the sound of receding footsteps.

 I turn on my side and feel that emptiness in my chest again. There is something about it that is crushing. The feeling of nothingness hurts more than any physical pain I’ve ever endured.

  _Why do you have to be such a fuck up_? I mutter to myself internally.

  _The more you avoid it, the worse it is going to be. You’re being selfish. Aren’t you tired of only thinking of yourself_?

 The whispering in my head is my own voice, but sometimes I’m not sure if it’s truly myself speaking.

 “Fuck this,” I said under my breath, grabbing my jacket.

 I slam the door shut behind me and begin making my way out of the building.

 “I just need some air,” I said.

 It’s dark out now. I had no concept of time in that windowless room. 

 I run my hands through my hair while I try to sort out my thoughts.

  _You know this is the same as running away. You’re a coward._

 “I know.”

  _You hurt people all the time._

 “I know.”

  _What are you going to do about it? How will you make up for it?_

 I stop dead in my tracks and try to think of response. 

  _You can’t do anything about it. You can never give back all that you’ve taken from people. You will never atone._

 “I know,” I whispered, defeated.

 I slump over near a tree and lay my head in my hands. I can feel my heartbeat reverberate inside of me. It haunts me, thinking of the hollowness of Al’s chest. How I can lay my head on him but I can’t hear the life I took. If I could rip this heart out of my chest, I would. But I doubt anyone would want such a tainted, rotten thing.

 The desperation is clawing at my skin, attempting to rip its way out of my body. My breath feels shaky, and I realize that I’m starting to slip away from reality. I look around, and my vision blurs. I begin to feel anxious, like I need to release this energy before it bursts out from inside of me. I grab my coat and try to steady my breathing. I can feel tears welling up behind my eyes. 

  _Boys don’t cry. Don’t be a child._

 “I know.”

 And then it starts to rain, and quickly it starts to pour. But the ground is still dry. 

  _Pathetic._

 “I know.”

 I pull my hood over my face and let a sob escape my throat. I let my head fall back against the tree and slam my metal hand into my flesh knee. It aches, but I like it. 

  _It will never be enough. The pain will never be enough._

 I let another sob escape. It sounds more like a scream this time. This is the kind of pain I like. This is what I deserve, the unrelenting itching and screaming from my own soul, dragging my consciousness further and further from the surface. It’s a descent into madness that I have grown accustomed to. 

 I take a few deep breaths and wipe my tears on my sleeves. I pull the hood away from my face and I am surrounded by dimly lit darkness. The warm light from the street lamps filters through the leaves, and I can see that I am truly alone. But that’s okay, because I would sooner die before I let anyone see me at such a weak point. I don’t get to elicit sympathy from others. I don’t deserve comfort for this. I’ve done this to myself. 

 I slowly rise to my feet and decide that it’s time to head home before Al begins to worry.

 The path back seems unfamiliar, now that it’s become so dark, but I eventually see central begin to peak through the trees. I release a heavy sigh, hoping that everyone has gone home for the night at this point. I can feel blotchiness of my skin, and I wouldn’t know what to say if anyone asked. 

 The stairs seem to be never ending, and I can feel the fatigue building in my body. Between traveling and simply existing, I feel absolutely drained. But then again, I haven’t really earned the right to complain. 

 “Welcome home brother!” Al said as I enter the quarters. 

 “You have a good time at the library?” I asked as I kicked my shoes into the corner. 

 “It was very quiet. It was a nice change. I did do a little research, but Sheska found so many books about animals that I couldn’t help but get distracted. Everything from animal anatomy to animal care, and encyclopedias. I did know that this library would have so much!” Al gushed. 

 I felt a smile creep over my features as he talked on about his day. The pain starts to lift away from my soul and I feel myself beginning to come back to reality. 

 “When I get my body back, I hope that I can rescue lots of animals and take care of them!”

 “I think you would be really good at that. Does that mean that I’m stuck with them while you travel?” I smirked.

 “Maybe we can make a little home for them, where anyone can drop by and spend time with them so they’re never lonely,” he said.

 His voice is so soft. It’s incredible how much I can tell from his tone without his facial features being present. If he had his body right now, I bet the corners of his eyes would crinkle and his soft gold eyes would be glazed over. I know he would look so happy right now. 

 “I picked up dinner as well. I wasn’t sure what you would be in the mood for, so I hope this will do,” he said as he began taking some packaged meals out of a small bag. 

 “You didn’t have to, but thank you.”

 I pick at the steamed rice and vegetables before snapping the lid back on and putting it into the counter.

 “That’s all?” Al asked.

 “I’m pretty lagged from the train ride today. I’m too tired to eat,” I smiled at him.

 He doesn’t say anything, and just goes along with it.

 “I think I might head to bed now if that’s alright?”

 “Sure brother. Sleep well.”

 

_____________________

  _Sleeping is so troublesome. It’s a waste of time, and something that I have no control over. I know that I’m asleep, and yet I can’t fully differentiate between my dreams and my reality._

  _I am sitting in the same spot as always. Cross legged in a dark room that smells like blood. All I see is darkness, so pitch black that I am unable to see my hand in front of my face._

  _That’s when I hear it. The screaming._

  _Two young voices screaming at the top of their lungs. I can see my younger self in the circle, my brother beside me, both slowly fading to nothing._

  _I find myself screaming now, but no sound comes out. I can feel the strain in my throat, the desperation. Even though it happened almost 10 years ago, I make the same mistake. I run towards my brother, but before I can grab his hand, he is gone. My younger self is on the floor, dragging himself towards the suit of armor and transmuting a soul into it. In another flash of light, more screaming is heard. I cover my ears and close my eyes as the screaming continues. I know this situation too well. I live it every day, after every blink. I finally open my eyes and the noise has stopped._

  _My younger self is sprawled out on the floor, blood pooling around his small body. He has passed out, and now being picked up and carried off by the caged soul that is my baby brother._

  _Then I hear her voice._

  _"Edward,” she cooed, “Edward sweetie, I thought I told you to take care of Al for me and to be a big boy right honey?”_

  _“I tried mum, I really did,” I feel the hot tears streaming down my face, my throat becoming more tense as I try to speak._

  _“Then why is he with one without the body. Why aren’t you trapped in the armor? Edward, why did you damn your baby brother?”_

  _“I don;t know! I didn’t have any control over this. I didn’t choose this! If I could change it, I would mom believe me! I would give anything to change it all,” I sobbed._

  _“Oh Edward, why couldn’t you just let me rest. I thought you were a smart boy,” she said sadly._

  _“I’m sorry mom, I’m so sorry,” I gasped._

  _“Tears will solve nothing. Look at me. Look at mom,” she said._

  _I look up but it’s the same darkness surrounding me. I strain my eyes, but I can see nothing._

  _“But I’m everywhere,”  she said._

  _I feel a breeze on the back of my neck._

  _“Look at me!” She yelled._

  _I look around, and feel the room spinning. I still cannot see._

  _“Why won’t you listen to me!” She screamed._

  _“I’m trying!” I cry._

_That’s when I see it. An ugly creature suddenly appears before me, loose strands of hair hanging off of its charred and decayed skin. Narrow slits filled with light where her beautiful eyes once smiled. Her body is mangled and contorted. It is beyond recognition. I turn my head away._

  _“Edward, honey, why can’t you look at your mother. Don’t you love me?”_

  _“I’m sorry,” I whispered._

  _The creature grabbed my chin and forced my face towards hers so that we could see eye to eye. Her face formed into a nasty smile. Her teeth were gone, a dark substance that resembled sludge slid off of her body and onto the floor._

  _"That’s better,” she said._  
_  
The smell of death was one that I could not describe._

  _“Well aren’t you satisfied with your results? Huh? Am I the mother that you were hoping to see? Was your brother’s body worth this Edward? Come now, tell mother,” she said, and angry twist to her words._

  _“No,” I said quietly._

  _“Speak up!” She screeched._

  _“No ma’am,” I said louder._

  _“That’s right,” she hissed. She struck me in the face and forced me to the floor._

_I cringed and rolled into a body._

  _“You sniveling little coward. Look at you! At the mercy of your own creation, your own damnation! Look at all the sacrifices you went through to create me. You think you know what it takes to be human? You think carefully calculated chemicals can replace the beauty of a soul? You couldn’t even give me the respect I deserved. How pathetic.” she spat._

  _I winced at her words, but remained where I was._

  _“Get up,” she said quietly. Her lethal tone made my skin crawl._

  _“Get up you bastard,” she screamed._

  _“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, putting my hands over my head._

  _“Sorry means nothing! Get up!”_

  _I tried to rise to my knees but she swept my feet out from underneath of me, letting me hit the floor again._

  _“Faster!” She yelled again, but I didn’t have the strength to move. My body felt numb and devoid of life._

  _“You won’t listen to me, you won’t respect me, you won’t even look at me,” she cried, her words slapping me. Her words seared._

  _“Why don’t you love me,” she asked._

  _“I’m sorry,” was all I could manage. I cried freely and let her continue to abuse me until I could no longer see clearly._

_This was my fault. This was my burden, this was what I deserved._


	3. Hunger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who have dropped by: Thank you! And thanks for the kuddos as well. I hope that this next chapter will satisfy the masochist in you.  
> TW: mentions and depictions of bodily harm.  
> **

"Brother?" I can feel the bed begin to sink as he sits next to me.

"Are you going to central today?"

I feel the exhaustion pulling on my eyes. The last few nights I have not slept at all, and it was beginning to take its toll.

"Maybe," I answered.

I try to lift my body from the bed, but it feels like I am lifting a sack of sand. My head feels like it's full of water, and my limbs seem like they're glued to the mattress. I keep trying to tell myself that this is all in my head, and that I can just jump up from the bed if I wanted to. However, with each movement, a piece of my soul begins to drain. I try blinking my eyes, assuming that I can shake the drowsiness, but they burn and start to feel more dry. I feel pathetic. This isn't me. I have too much to do, I can't waste my time on something so trivial.

"You seem tired. Maybe I can go in your place."

"No, I'm fine. I just need a minute," I waved my hand at him. This is when I know that I am becoming a burden.

I brace my weight on my arms and finally lift myself. I feel unsteady on my feet, but it will all fade soon. It all does eventually.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Al said, a hint of concern in his voice.

“We won’t get our bodies back with our heads in the sand Al. If I have to put myself out there, I will. There’s nothing more important than-”

“We can’t get our bodies back if you're dead you idiot!” He yelled. 

I stiffen. “I’m sorry,” I said, taken aback by his sudden harshness.

“You’re not just some expendable toy. You have a living breathing body that you need to take care of and be considerate of. Don’t take that for granted just because you feel bad,” he softened his tone.

“I will never forget about our differing conditions Al,” I muttered.

There is now tension in the air, and neither one of us feel comfortable enough to address it. Al doesn't usually yell, and I feel bad for putting him in that position. But this  _is_ my fault. 

"I'm fine. Really. I'm going to central today." I pull my jacket off of the chair and he looks into his lap.

"I'll be back in a bit."

I don't wait for a response before closing the door shut behind me. I exhale deeply and head to his office. I take my time, as I'm in no particular rush to begin what will be a confrontation. That's how every conversation is with that bastard. There is no pleasing him, no matter how hard I try. When we met all those years ago, I felt thankful that someone could see some kind of potential in me after what I had done, and what I had wasted. When I got my certification, I made sure to prove to him that I appreciated the opportunity, and that he hadn't wasted his time on me. This was more for my brother than anyone else, but I wouldn't have access to these resources without him, no matter how much I want I to deny it. However, I can now see that I was naive. I was not sought out because of the potential I had. I wasn't seen as a kid who could turn his life around and make something of it. I am a weapon. I am an expendable toy, even if Al doesn't see that. They could care less what happens to me, not that they should. There was just a small glimmer of hope that someone could care about me, even after seeing the destruction I was capable of. But I should have known better. I'm just convenient.

I knock on the door lightly before crossing the threshold. As expected, he's hunched over a mountain of paperwork with a loaded gun to his head.

"Oh Edward, I didn't know you would be stopping by," Riza said, her gun still pointed to his head.

"I just had a few errands to take care of. Figured it was time to tie up some loose ends," I shrugged.

"If you could lower that damn gun, I would be more productive," Roy said.

"Negative. You spend too much time procrastinating and day dreaming," Riza replied.

I laughed at the exchange, missing the familiarity.

"Would you excuse us for a little bit. I have some information to go over with Edward concerning his last few reports," he made eye contact with me as he spoke. 

It made my mouth go dry.

Riza lowers the gun and returns it to her holster.

"I'll be back. Nice to see you Edward," Riza smiled at me before exiting the office.

I slump onto the couch and throw my leg over the arm. 

"I'm ready. Lay it on me," I said dryly.

"How have you been?" He asked.

I look over at him, skeptical.

"Fine. Never been better."

"What have you been up to in your absence?" His tone remains calm, and it makes me uneasy.

"Outside of the missions you threw at us here and there, mostly studying. Studying leads, training, studying alchemy, training. Nothing wild or irresponsible if that's what you're asking."

We stare at each other from across the room. He has his gloved hands crossed in front of his face, his head carefully resting on them. It's like he can see through me, and it makes me feel naked under his gaze. I avert my eyes and smirk.

"What's this really about Mustang? What is there to talk about now? I've done as you asked, and stayed out of the way. What more is there?"

"You don't follow orders. You assume that you're doing the 'best thing,' without clearing it with anyone else. You told no one that you were going MIA for a year. What part of that do you see as being responsible?"

"I get it. I'm a dog of the military. I turned in reports, and went on missions. I didn't communicate with you as much as you wanted, but I still got your work done. I just don't see the big deal," I said, still avoiding eye contact.

"The big deal," he said, his tone becoming more stern, "Is that I had no way to get in contact with you. I had no way to know where you were at any given time, not even a ballpark. That's a serious issue whether you like it or not."

"Oh, my sincerest apologies. Next time I'll send you a post card," I huffed.

I hear his chair scrape against the floor and he suddenly makes his way across the room. 

"You are my responsibility whether you want to accept that or not," he said, his face inches from mine.

I turn away from him and furrow my eyebrows together.

"I can take care of myself-"

"That's not the point!" He yelled, yanking my face in his direction.

My eyes widen and for a moment I stare at him. I quickly slapped his hand away and jump to my feet.

"Then what the fuck is the point? I've seen the error of my ways, and how my carelessness has only impeded my progress. What do you want me to say? That I make everything worse without trying? That I can't be trusted to be alone because I'm just a shitstorm? I understand that with each action I take, there is collateral damage. I've done my best to contain my mission, so that no one else has to be involved. I've been trying since day one! I'm fucking sorry. What do I have to do?" I feel short of breath and my chest is heaving.

There is a moment of time where everything stands still and I can clearly hear the beating of both of our hearts.

"Forget it. I'll try harder next time," I shove my way past him and put my hand on the knob of the door.

"Do not walk away from this conversation," he snapped, grabbing my metal arm.

I violently rip it out of his grasp and face him.

"Don't fucking touch me. This conversation is over. I've heard you."

I attempt to pull the door open but he slams it shut, forcing my body against the door with his arms on either side of my head.

"This conversation is far from over. Do you think you can just do what ever you please because you feel uncomfortable? You can't just walk away because this isn't going how you wanted it to. That's what children do."  
  
His tone his harsher now.

"This conversation is over because all you've done is berate and belittle me since I've started working with you. You tell me everything I do wrong, but when have you ever told me what I should be doing instead? I tried to figure that out, but I can't read your fucking mind," I spat.

He stares blankly at me for a moment. I take advantage of this and try to open to door again, but he grabs my hands and pins them at my sides. I writhe underneath of him, trying to get my hands free but he tightens his grip on my wrists. 

"You've heard what you wanted to hear. The world isn't so black and white. There will be things that you'll just have to figure out for yourself. You're 18 now, you want to be treated like an adult? Start taking some responsibility," he said through gritted teeth.

My mind starts rushing with thoughts faster than I can filter them. In a moment of anger, I break my wrists free and shove him as hard as I can.

"I take responsibility every day of my life. Every day that I see Al, I take responsibility. Every time I can hear his voice, but can't see his face, I take responsibility. Every night that I sleep while he sits awake, I take responsibility. Every breath I take, that he does not, I take responsibility. If you could take your head out of your ass for just one moment, maybe you could see that. Everyone here follows your orders and supports your fucking dreams. All I want is to get my fucking baby brother's body back, so if that means that I can't spend every minute of my day licking your damn boots, then so be it!" I said coldly.

"Fullme-"  
  
"This conversation is over," I said, ripping the door open and slamming it shut behind me.

A few curious heads look over in my direction before quickly looking away as I meet their eyes.

_You're a coward._

"I know," I whisper to myself.

I hastily make my way back to the room, and I am met with emptiness. I see a note on the bed, and unfold it.

_I went to grab some things for dinner. I will be back soon._

I drop to my knees and grip the sheets of the bed. I try to bite back the tears, but it's too late. The built up emotion inside of me is rushing to the surface, exploding from me. I shut my lips tightly in an attempt to hush the sobs that are racking my body. I feel like a failure. I hate crying, I hate how weak it makes me feel. I hate that no matter how hard I try, I can't fight it, I can't escape it. I hear screaming in my head, and I can't silence it. It rips through my body in waves, and the tightness in my chest builds again. The itching and desperation for release is scratching at my brain. I try to have a moment of clarity, and talk myself out of this, but it's useless. No amount of pleading with my soul can curb the pain that burns inside of me, coursing through my blood. I grab a fist full of my hair and tighten my grip. My scalp begins to burn from the tension, but that's not enough. My thoughts are still racing, and the desperation is still building. 

I look around me, searching the room. I decide to go into the bathroom, and lock the door behind me. I run the shower water, and place my hands on the edge of the sink. I look up into the slowly fogging mirror, and see my reflection look back at me.

_You're supposed to be the strong one. If only they knew how truly pathetic you were._

I look away and notice a shaving blade on the edge of the sink.

_Do it._

I look up at my reflection again, and look into my tired eyes.

_It will go away if you do it._

I look back down at the blade and feel a sensation inside of me that I've never felt before. It's a mix of overwhelming fear and overwhelming excitement. I pick it up carefully and examine how sharp the edge is. I slowly run my finger across it and feel a dull bite that numbs me for a moment, before the pain returns. I feel my breath hitch as I raise it to my arm.

_That's too obvious. No one can_ know.

I pull it away and search my body. Suddenly, I feel my arms moving before I can think about what I'm doing. It's as though I've sunken to a place deep inside of myself, and now I can only watch. 

My hands undo my belt buckle, and quickly shove my jeans and underwear down. My metal hand spreads the skin on my upper thigh and pulls it taut. The blade then rests against the area, before I pull it across my skin. There is no pain, but pressure slowly begins to lift from my chest. I pause before repeating the action, making a deeper line. Again, the pressure continues to ease. Before I know it, there are several deep line across the top of my thigh, but an overwhelming relief that I've never felt before. That's when I can feel myself rush back to the surface, and I throw the blade into the sink. 

_You've done it._

"I didn't mean.." I trailed off.

Now I can feel the stinging creeping over the area, but its like a sweet kiss in comparison to the burning and desperation that was bubbling over. I cover my eyes and feel another sob trying to escape my throat.

_This is better. This is what you needed._

I let my hand fall to my side and I look at my reflection again. My eyes are dark, but my reflection smiles.

"Never again," I whispered, "This was a mistake."

I shake my head and finish stripping my clothes. I step into the shower and feel the warm water pour over my body. Pink streaks trail down my thighs and I feel nauseous, but my soul feels numb and at ease. A small part of me is afraid that I've fed into a hunger that can't be satiated. But I'm starting to wonder if maybe that's worth it for a moment of peace. 

Maybe I did need this. 

 

 


	4. An Exchange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little short, but heavy. Strong TW for suicidal ideation and bodily harm. If for any reason you resonate with any of these feelings, please make sure to take care of yourself. 
> 
> Otherwise, thank you all for following along and leaving kuddos!  
> **

The last few days felt like a blur. It was almost as if I was sitting somewhere deep inside of myself while a program managed my social life. I could see everything that was going on, but it was as if I had no true control over anything. I managed to spend most of my time buried in the library, going over my notes and creating some new leads. Ironically, this is the most normal that I have felt in a while. Being human takes so much effort; so many emotions to sort through, so many expectations to live up to, it’s tedious. Being able to give that up to just passively exist is a treat. 

I have intermittent moments of clarity, where I feel like there is something wrong, and that I’ve made a mistake that is irreparable. However, as soon as I feel myself coming back to the surface, something strong drags me back down underneath. The layer that exists above me is thick, and suffocating. But, then again, it doesn’t seem so bad to feel nothing at all. 

Al and I are still awkward around each other following our last disagreement. We are unsure of what to say to each other, so we do what we do best and ignore it. Overall, his mood has improved, and I feel grateful for that.

The one thing that is still looming over me is something that I have no interest in addressing: the colonel. I know that our conversation is not over, especially considering the way that I ended it. Thinking about it gives me a twisting sensation in my chest, and I can’t stand the sensation. The dread is almost overwhelming, so I do my best to ignore that too, and stay out of his way. Most of the time, he is busy doing his own work, so our paths have yet to cross.

That is until today. 

As I left the library, ready to return to the resting rooms, I saw him out of the corner of my eye. It was late, and the building was mostly empty. I didn’t anticipate seeing him, clearly. So when I did, I immediately felt panic bubbling inside of me.

“Fullmetal?” He questioned.

I quickly turned away from him and tried to escape the situation. 

“Please wait!” He called.

I shook my head and increased my pace. A small part of me was hoping that if I ignored him long enough, he would give up and go away. But that is uncharacteristic of that bastard. 

I can hear his footsteps closing the distance between us, and a searing pain is gradually accumulating in me, ripping across my chest. It’s so raw. I’ve been so desensitized to it for so long, so feeling it now after my blissful break was like a blade re-entering a healing wound.

A strong hand grabbed my wrist and yanked me backwards. I am uncoordinated and stumble into his body. The desperation comes flooding back, suffocating my thoughts. The whispers that have scratched at my brain become louder.

“Can we just talk, please,” he said, releasing my wrist and turning to face me.

I blankly stared at him while the chaos unravels in my body. Everything that I had suppressed has come back like a violent storm, and this time I have no barriers to protect me. And just like that, my conscious mind is ripped backwards. I’m sitting deep inside of myself again, a spectator to my own pain.  
“What’s up?” I asked. 

My voice seems unfamiliar to me, devoid of emotion.

“About the other day,” he began, uneasily.

“I’m sorry. I was out of line,” I said flatly.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion and he is at a loss for words.

“You were right. I was acting childish, and I should learn to manage myself more appropriately. I don’t need someone to hold my hand, and I shouldn’t expect you to take any responsibility for me or my actions.”

“I, uh, I didn’t...” he stuttered before trailing off.

“I hope you can accept this apology. I will try harder to be a productive member of this unit,” I said softly.

I nod at him, and started to walk back towards the rooms. The pain has faded into an emptiness that surges through my body. My limbs start to tingle before turning cold and numb. He makes an attempt to say something, but stops. He reaches his hand out to grab my own, but the distance only increases between us. As his hand falls limply to his side, I almost feel regret. But there is no way to solve this problem. We will always be at odds with one another, and this yearning and pain that I try to bury will always resurface. This is why emotions are burdensome. This is why things were better when I could just ignore them. I am not allowed to have a preference in this situation, and I only hurt myself by believing that I could change the dynamic of our relationship.

He will always see me as the pathetic, foolish, child in a wheelchair that got in way over his head. He will never see me the way that I want him to. No amount of dedication or hard work will earn the respect of a man who has seen me in such a fragile and shameful state. That is a mistake that I can never take back. 

And to me, he will always be the strong willed bastard that cares about no one but himself. No one can change that drive within him. His unit will follow him anywhere he goes. They believe that one day he can truly restore all that is wrong with this world. They respect him. We have nothing in common. We will never understand each other.

“I’m sorry,” he called.

I stop in my tracks. The thick haze that had settled over me clears, and my emotions become my own again. I feel exhausted. 

“Don’t be.” I waved my hand limply, and continued to walk forward.

In my experience, people only say sorry so that they can keep their foot in the door. They say sorry so that they can have a second chance, just so they can do the same thing all over again. It’s okay that you hurt me Roy. But I will never let you hurt me again.

That’s my choice. 

__

 

“Were you able to finish your research brother?”

“Not yet,” I said.

Al had picked up dinner for me again, but it was difficult to eat. My stomach lurched with each thought, and the pit that grew earlier had yet to subside. But, in spite of that, I couldn’t worry him again. I grabbed a large spoonful of the soup and stared at it. 

“Did I get the wrong one?” Al said.

“No, no, it’s really good. I was just thinking,” I said.

I picked up the bowl and brought it to my mouth, forcing myself to swallow the contents. I kept replaying my conversation with Mustang in my head, feeling embarrassment settle over me. I felt like such a fool. I, undoubtedly, made the situation worse. 

_Fuck up._

I closed my eyes and abruptly got up from the table. 

“I’m going to shower. Thank you for the food Al. It was delicious.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. Do you need anything?”

“I’m good,” I flashed him a weak smile.

But when I get into the bathroom, I immediately eat those words. I frantically reach for the handle to the shower and turn it on to drown out the heaving that takes over my body. My abs tense and my eyes well with tears. As I try to breathe, I am choked by another heave. I grab the rim of the sink to regain my composure. The drain begins to blur in front of me. My body lurches forward again, and this time, a sour taste takes over my mouth as my stomach empties. My grip tightens on the sink as my stomach wrings itself. I want to bite it back, and make it stop, but waves come harder and faster. 

I look up into the mirror and my reflection pitties me.

_Pathetic. You let yourself get so worked up that you’ve been reduced to a regurgirative mess._

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and feel sweat beading from my forehead. There was no questioning the fact that I felt like shit, but this felt like nothing compared to the regret I felt for today.   
Regret eats away at me like a slow form of corrosion. It starts in the wide expanse of my chest and circulates to the rest of my body. It consumes me whole.

My eyes wander over to the edge of the sink where the shaving blade sits.

“No,” I say to myself. 

It almost appears to gleam, as if it is some blessed object.

_It helps you. It makes you the best version of yourself. Productive, strong, unable to be weighed down by any emotion. You need it._

“I don’t need it, I don’t need anything,” I snap at myself. 

 _You’re too emotional. You feel too muc_ h. _This replaces the pain. You can’t fix emotional pain, but you can convert it into physical pain._

“That’s not what I want.”

_But that’s what you deserve._

My eyes widen for a moment. The thought that crossed my mind a million times finally becomes reality. The pain that I deserved for every mistake I made, every person I hurt, everything that I destroyed, it was right here. It was right in front of me. The opportunity to make it right with my soul was in front of me all along, and I ignored it. I was a fool. My emotional distress could be converted into a real pain like that one that I have inflicted.

It was an equivalent exchange.

I snatched the blade from the edge of the sink and forced my clothing down my thighs. An anxious feeling surged through my body and it was exhilarating. I pulled my skin taut, and without a second thought, drag the blade across my skin. The bite soon melts into nothingness. The weight on my chest starts to lift. 

“I do need this,” I say to myself. 

With an entire canvas open to my own destruction, it felt incredibly soothing to know that I could possibly make up for everything wrong that I had done with my life. I was a prisoner in my own body for too long, believing that I would be sentenced to a life where I could never atone for what I had done. But now that life sentence was no longer inflicted on me, I was in control.   
And I would make sure that I would pay for all of it.


	5. Stability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter that's on the shorter side. I wanted to try and tie in a little more of the original story as a motivator. However, things start to happen, so make sure you read carefully!  
> **

The ceiling above me has become a familiar place of comfort.

While the world seems to spin out of control around me, the ceiling remains still. The floor can come out from underneath of me, but I can find stability by looking at the ceiling. 

I start to think about the last few months, and I have come to see that it has been a lonely year. My body has been run ragged by constant traveling, and with each lead, comes a dead end. After coming to the realization that the Philosopher’s Stone’s power is derived from human souls, it became clear to me that I had run out of options. Sometimes I wonder if Roy promised me this information to rub salt in the wound. Maybe he needed someone motivated enough to find out the truth for him. Perhaps, he knew all along that what I needed was unattainable, and was punishing me. 

It’s, of course, silly to think that someone would put that much effort into me. 

Alphonse is unphased, however, and truly believes that we can figure something out. But I don’t know if I have the answers that he needs. I don’t know if I can fix this mistake. 

When dealing with Truth, it is important to be honest with oneself. I could lie to myself, and say that I didn’t care about losing my limbs. I could say that it should have been me that was destroyed by the Gate. I can say those things to myself, but it wouldn’t be true. I lost my brother because he was all that I had, so I lost all of him. I was the eldest, I was the one who knew better, and pressured him into this. I was punished for that. The leg that I stood on with ignorance and pride that I hadn’t earned, was taken from me. The arm used to bind the soul of my brother was taken as a warning, that any expertise that I assumed I had, could easily be taken. I was shown that I was nothing, and chose to replace everything that I had based on my own ego.

Now that I’m eighteen, I can’t help but wonder what my life could have been. I can’t help but wonder what beautiful life Alphonse could have lived. The years of sun kissing his skin, the fresh air of a spring day filling his lungs, the calluses on his hands from working hard. I wonder what man Al could have been. I feel my eyes start to water, as I search my mind for his face, but even that has started to fade now. 

So now I sit here and stare at the ceiling, because my world has fallen to pieces.

Nights like this, I begin to wonder who I am. Did I ever know who I was? A headstrong child, strong willed and brazen, reduced to a sorry excuse for an adult who can’t go a day without crying. Was it all a facade? Have I always been this weak? Or was I just better at hiding it before? 

With each day presenting me with a new descension into madness, it becomes increasingly clear to me that I will never be the hero that people see in me. I can’t save anyone. I can’t even save myself. But I don’t want to be saved. I have accepted the terms of my contract with life. Uncoerced, I signed away my freedom in the pursuit of happiness, not realizing that I already had it. I had fucking everything. The reason Truth didn’t take my eyes was because I was already blind.

__

“Brother, Sheska said that she had more documents for us to look at. The colonel found a few things from the archives and sent them over!” Al said.

Hearing his name still left a bad taste in my mouth.

“That sounds great. Did she say what they were about?” I feigned excitement. 

“No. I guess I didn’t think to ask either,” Al said sheepishly.

“That’s fine. We’ll just have to go down and see right?”

“Right.”

 

I huddled into a corner in the library and splayed the documents out in front of me. I nibbled on the end of my pen and began to scan the words carefully. The first few pages were of no interest. But as I continued to dig through them, I found myself lost in disbelief. This wasn’t ordinary research. This was research on the Gate. 

“What the fuck,” I whispered to myself.

My eyes read the words  faster than my hands could turn the pages.

_The Gate is a construct that is accessible to all, but at a price. Those who wish to have the knowledge of the world must give the Gate their own world. It is merely a means to satiate the incessant hunger and selfishness of humanity. Those who seek comfort in the idea of a God are unaware that there is no such thing, just Truth. There is a truth to life, and if that cannot be accepted, then those who seek its alternative are doomed to Hell._

My hands start to shake, and I shove the work away from me.

“Why?” I asked, feeling my voice shake.

“Why what?”

I snap my attention away from the floor and look up to see none other than Roy Mustang leaning against a bookshelf.

I quickly rise to my feet and charge at him. Anger boils in my veins as I grab the shirt collar of his uniform and yank him towards me. 

“Why the fuck did you give this to me?” I yelled, shaking my balled fist.

He remains calm, and relaxes into me.

“It was something that you needed to see."

“For what? To shove it in my fucking face? You think I don’t know this? I could have written this my Goddamn self! Why?” I cried.

He put his hands on my shoulders and I feel the sensation of his touch shoot through my body.

“Because I didn’t want you to think you were alone,” he said quietly.

I released his shirt and shoved him away from me. My chest starts to heave and I feel myself losing control.

“I don’t need your pity,” I spat.

“It’s not pity. It’s empathy,” he said, taking one step closer.

“That’s funny. I didn’t think that was something you were capable of,” I laughed bitterly.

He takes another step forward, and I take two steps backwards.

“I am still alone. In a room full of fools, I am still alone,” I said.

“A fool doesn’t learn from their mistakes.” He takes another step.

“A fool wastes his life fixing a problem that can’t be solved.” I take another step backward.

“A fool believes in his own lies.” He moves closer.

I attempt to step backward, but I bump into the shelving behind me. He puts a hand to the side of my head, and rests his weight against the bookshelf.

“Tell me, it is lonely?” He asked.

“What?” I replied.

“The burden of sin?”

My heart drops into my stomach and entire world bursts away from me. There is no perception of time. Everything is still. His face is inches from mine, and I have no strength in my body. The words echo through my body. He leans his face closer, and everything begins to spin now. I close my eyes, wanting everything to disappear.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

His lips brush against my ear and his breath is hot.

I can hear my heart pounding out of my chest, and my breath hitches in the back of my throat.

“It is lonely, because no one else can feel the weight of my actions. I have another human being weighing on my soul, every day. What could you possibly know about that,” I whispered, feeling the sting of tears bite my eyes.

He takes my flesh hand and brings it out in front of me. He removes one of the gloves from his hand, and places it into my palm.

“With each thread of fabric, I have managed to consume the lives of a nation. Though this glove is no heavier than flower, I feel the weight of a genocide every day.”

I look at the glove, and then back at him. His eyes pierce through me, and I feel naked under his gaze. He has peeled back every layer that I’ve let grow over these last couple years effortlessly.

“You and I are not all that different, Fullmetal. Beneath your feet are the bodies of the ones you gave everything to save. Beneath my feet are a mountain of corpses that burn blue with sulfur. Tell me, now, who was really the fool?” He laced his fingers with my own, the glove now resting between our palms.

“I am,” I said, before closing the distance between us and brushing my lips softly against his own.

_For letting myself get hurt again._


	6. A Hole That Deepens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all. I apologize for a late update. I've had a nasty migraine that I've been trying to get rid of. I have manged to push through to provide another chapter! I hope you all enjoy it.

The tallest building in this city didn’t seem tall enough at the moment. I watched the world move slowly below me as my feet dangled over the edge. There was something to be said about the fear of heights. I don’t think anyone is really afraid of how tall the building is, I think they’re afraid of falling.

Falling is one of the most dreadful feelings in the world. There is no control. There is nothing to slow it down. The only way it ends is by finally hitting the ground. It’s sobering. 

The moment that the colonel and I crossed that boundary, I felt myself falling. There was nothing to grasp on to, there was no way to go back over the ledge that I had carelessly leapt over. It was done. The moment that I pulled away from him was the moment I felt my body hit the ground with such force, that I was sure I would be broken forever. Nothing would be the same. My soul had come crashing through my body, and it was in pieces. The moment plays endlessly in my mind, and every time it does, I can feel my sense of reality falling away from me and shattering into the ground. Everything that I had done to create a sense of normality for myself was destroyed. Every strategically placed barrier crumbled before my eyes. I can’t believe that I put myself in such a position again.

I was the fool. 

There were fragments of me that were hopeful. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let someone in. But, then again, the closer to the fire I am, the more likely I am to be burned. I thought that I had accepted that he would never change, and that he was always going to be the same selfish person that saw whatever he wanted to see. I thought that I had learned from the last time, that we would never work together. Time apart was supposed to help me move on. But it made me crave him more. It made my heart desperately search for the good inside of him even though I knew it didn't exist. He was nothing but a distraction, and I didn’t have time for that. My dedication was towards my brother. And yet here I was, at the top of a building holding my heart in my hands because I was nothing but a dumb kid.

My skin felt cold. The sensation ignited within me by his touch has been extinguished by a suffocating loneliness. No matter how much I wanted someone to love me, it would never be enough to drown out the sadness inside of me. Sadness was a bottomless pit that could never be satisfied by any amount of happiness or comfort. Once it started devouring my soul, it left me with nothing but a hole that could never be filled. Every day I wake up tired. In a room full of people, I feel alone. I read the same pages hundreds of times just to realize I still haven’t absorbed a fucking word. Sadness takes every good thing from me before I can even enjoy it. As soon as the warmth of Roy’s body permeated my bones, it was sucked into that hole. Even as I grasped on to him for more, and felt his arms envelope me, it was gone just as quickly. I felt the tears stream down my cheeks as I realized that I would never be able to overcome this sadness. I couldn’t be loved back to life. 

The sun was beginning to set, and I put my hands behind me, resting my weight on them. I had no idea what I was going to do tomorrow. I had no clue how to face him after being so exposed in front of him. The moment we pulled away from each other, I ran. It seemed to be the only thing I was truly good at. Even once I was out of the building, I kept going until I ended up here. My lips still felt numb from the sweetness of his kiss, and a sensation that I had never felt before surged through my body. It made me feel sick, and blurred all my thoughts into one. I couldn’t help but put my fingers to my lips, wanting them to be his. I quickly shook the thought from my head as embarrassment flooded through me. I fell backwards onto the roof and threw my hand over my eyes, as if it could somehow shield me from the panic that was beginning to settle in me again. 

_Stupid. So stupid._

I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to form thoughts of my own to distract me from the truth that my mind was trying to tell me. Just for once, I wanted to be blissfully ignorant to my mistakes and regrets. I wanted to pretend that something beautiful could flower from such a moment of vulnerability. I so badly wanted for this to work out that I could feel myself ripping apart inside. Out of all the pain I have been subject to, this was objectively the worst of all. 

_People like you don’t deserve to be loved. You’ve caused too much pain. You’ll never be worthy._

The pain washed over me with each word, and I could feel the hole deepen. I could feel the heartbreak consuming me, as my dream unfolded into a nightmare. 

I wondered what he was thinking right now. Was he thinking of me? Did he want me as much as I wanted him? If I were to reach my hand out to the sky right now, would his hand reach out for mine? I bet he looked beautiful when he cried. I could imagine his deep onyx eyes glazed over like glittering crystals as tears streamed down his cheeks. There was something mesmerizing about seeing someone in such a raw form. Is that why he makes me look at him when I cry? 

I uncovered my eyes and was met with a blanket of darkness. I slowly sat up and peered down into the street below. With the fear of falling, comes the excitement of release. While it is terrifying to fall, it is also a relief to no longer feel the weight of living. 

 

__

 

I opened the door to the room quietly, and snuck inside. I know that Al doesn’t sleep, but sometimes he fell into moments of deep concentration. It was almost like sleep, or at least, that's what I liked to tell myself.

Even as my lungs filled with disappointment, I felt strangely sober. When did it become so easy to breathe under water again?

As I walked over to the bed to take my shoes off, I could feel my skin begin to itch. This was something new that I had learned to accept. Every day I seemed to crave it more. But I knew that this would happen. The longer that I stayed away from it, the better the release felt once it came. It was almost like a game. How much pain could I torture myself with before I finally needed to let it go? It almost felt better to let myself suffer and squirm inside of my own skin. These kinds of things made me realize that there truly was no redemption for me. I was sick. But I didn't really mind anymore. 

I sat in the middle of the bed and began to shed my clothes to the floor. I had so many questions floating through my mind. What was this going to turn into? What did he want from me? Every time I tried to sort out my thoughts, I would find myself in the middle of a mountain of indescribable emotion with no way back down. I could feel myself internally crumble to my knees as my thoughts melted into empty bitterness. Hope was cruel in that way. It led me into the forest with promises of a paradise and left me in the darkness with no way out. 

I can't believe that I was so translucent. It made me feel like a child again, to be so trusting. This is how most of my nights go. I bounce between reality and stone cold regret. I'm never really sure what I am allowed to feel. I'm not sure what's safe. The clear answer would be to stay away from everything, and let people fade from me the way that I've allowed myself to fade from them. It would make sense to be happy with being able to think clearly for once in my life. But I second guess everything. I run away from the corpse of my emotions in hopes of salvaging some piece of myself. With each exhale, I feel more empty. Each scream falls on deaf ears as I sink deeper into myself. I've done it again. I've pushed the boundaries of how far my luck will take me. Now, as I open my eyes to the truth of my life, I want to be wrapped up inside of my pain again. I don't want to live my life for what it is. I want to keep living in the past so I never have to deal with the pain of healing. No one ever told me how much it would hurt to keep living. 

My body sinks into the sheets as my eyes burn with exhaustion. I don't really sleep anymore. I feel awake in my dreams. I relive every moment of my life within hours. My brain fills in the gaps where my heart is too afraid to. It almost seems pointless to try to close my eyes, but eventually my body gives in like it always does. Within a few hours, I will wake in a sweat, with my heart pounding out of my chest. I will wipe the tears from my eyes and quietly sob so Al doesn't hear me. I will bring my knees to my chest and try to recreate the warmth that my body craves. The loneliness will eat me alive.

And the hole will deepen again.

 

 

 


	7. Almost Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Thank you for the reads, kuddos, and comments! I really appreciate the feedback.  
> I hope you don't mind how short my chapters are. I feel like it's easy to add too much at once, and really ruin the mood. I hope you enjoy this chapter, nonetheless, and hopefully the next one will be a bit longer!  
> **

When I walked into his office this morning, I wasn't sure what to expect. 

During normal business hours, as I like to call them, I was sure that he would keep up his facade. Maybe it wasn't even a facade. I could accept that he had a moment of weakness, just as I had, and we would go our separate ways. We didn't owe each other anything. I had gone over this same thought in my head a million times while walking to his wing. I ignored the quiet buzz in the hallway, and kept my head down. I felt as though all eyes were on me, a creeping paranoia that I was never able to shake. Sometimes, I wondered if people could read my mind, if they could hear the thoughts in my head as they came into existence. It was an absurd thought, but for whatever reason, I couldn't shake the idea that everyone knew, and could see right through me. As I put my hand on the knob of the door, I could feel myself tremble. 

I finally took a deep breath, and threw the door open. I was surprised to see that he was alone, and I could feel my face flush instantly when our eyes met. The first few minutes were quiet, and my throat began to tighten. I pushed the door closed with my back, and leaned against it. I felt incredibly small in front of him. The way that I looked at him felt different. Before, I could take in his appearance with little care, and brush him off. It was comparable to looking a stranger. But now, I felt an incredible warmth travel over me as I looked over his features. He was sat at his desk, his elbow carefully resting on it, while he leaned sideways in his chair. One leg was crossed over the other, and his head was in his palm. His usual blue coat was draped over the back of the chair, and the white button down he wore underneath was rolled up over his elbows. He seemed relaxed, and I hated him for that. His eyes looked tired, but a smile soon swept across his features.

I swallowed thickly and looked away from him. The years of animosity held towards him seemed to melt away from me, and I felt as though I was losing my mind. How was it, that within such a short period of time, he managed to unravel me? His fingers delicately pulled away the layers that protected me, and brushed my skin in a way that I had never felt before. It was raw, but, it was also like the first burst of sunshine on my face after years of being in the dark. This was absolutely the most terrifying experience of my life. 

"I'm glad you came by," he said softly, breaking the silence.

I couldn't muster a response, and kept my gaze cast at the floor. I felt like an idiot.

"Would you like to sit?"

I looked up at him, and he gestured to the couch. My entire body was shaking, and I wasn't sure if my legs were coordinated enough to walk the short distance, but I pushed myself forward. As I sunk into the couch, I felt increasingly embarrassed. I tightly gripped my jeans and could feel my eyes beginning to well up. This was ridiculous. I wanted so badly to be able to smirk at him, and carry on with our usual callous banter. I wanted everything to just go back to how it was. I was so uncomfortable with this situation that I had no control over. 

"Don't you have work to do?" I asked.

My throat still felt tight, and I knew I sounded like I was on the verge of tears. This is fucking pathetic.

"I've been up all night. Boredom is a hell of a motivator," he laughed, "Besides, you're the one who came to me."

I tightened my jaw and felt my heart drop. My breath was caught somewhere in my throat, and my thoughts swirled. I was so fucked, it was unbelievable. It's not fair that he could do this to me. He didn't even know me. He has no idea who I am, and yet, he makes my heart swell. I don't even know anything about him. He is no better to me than a stranger. A stranger that has been at my neck since day one. For years, the only conversations we had were highlights of my failures, and constant scolding. For years, all he wanted was to push me just to see how far I could bend until I snapped. How was it that a man with such bitterness could taste so sweet?

"I don't get this," I started to run my hands through my hair, "I don't understand where we are right now," I could feel the panic building again.

I looked at him with desperation.

"I don't want you to delude me with sympathy. I am capable of putting my life together on my own. I don't ever want to break down in front of you again, and feel how I feel right now. It's embarrassing!" I cried.

"How do you feel right now?" He asked.

"Confused! How else would you expect me to feel? The last time we spoke before I left, you spat such bitterness and hatred at me, that I was sure that I could never earn your respect. Not that it's that important to me, but it didn't sit right with me. Don't get me wrong, I was never trying to chase your affections, but I just wanted to feel like I could do something right. My entire life has been fuck up after fuck up, and you never let me forget that. And now, I come back, and suddenly you're looking at me like I exist, like I'm a person? I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that. Maybe you've had time to work through your shit, but this was just dropped on me all at once. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel."

I could see a tinge of hurt spread across his face. 

"For years, I kept every emotion inside of me. I would rather die than let you see how you made me feel, because I knew that it would satisfy you. Why should I allow that?" I choked, "And look at me now? I can't even keep it together for a simple conversation. I just don't get it," I pulled my sleeve up to my eyes. 

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Don't. Please spare me that right now. You don't understand how fucking angry I am right now. I've spent almost half of my life hating you. Pushing myself harder and harder so that one day I could wipe that God damn smug look off of your face, and make you see that I wasn't a broken child in a wheelchair. That I was more than some disposable military weapon. And now that I've finally had the chance, I'm fucking crying in your stupid fucking office," I pushed my palms into my eyes, "It's not fucking fair."

It was silent for a few moments. He got up from his chair, and knelt down in front of me.

"I wanted you to hate me, you know," he said.

I laughed bitterly.

"It's true. I couldn't help but almost resent you. You went from a small, weak boy to this sarcastic, witty brat. You watched your brother disappear before your eyes, and created a monstrous transmutation. Lost an arm, lost a leg. And yet, you managed to come to Central as if none of it ever happened, almost unscathed. It was infuriating. How could some 12 year old punk be stronger than me?"

I pulled my hands away from my eyes and looked at him with disbelief.

"I could never let you know that you were, and always have been, the better man. I'm selfish, what can I say. I didn't want to accept you as my responsibility," he shrugged, "So we became enemies. It was easier that way. I could watch you progress, and admire you from a safe distance. You would go off and do your thing, and I could focus on my own motives. But, it seems like we are inseparable wouldn't you say?"

I hated how easily he was speaking, how none of this seemed to weigh on him the same way it did for me. It was difficult to believe a word he was saying.

"Tell me, how long did you rehearse this?" I asked.

His eyes widened with surprise, and a flush crept across his cheeks.

"Years," he said breathlessly.

I pressed myself backwards into the couch. He was so unfazed. He's such a bastard.

"You haven't been the only one pushing your emotions away. There is a considerable distance between us, even now. I didn't always feel this way about you, but the older you got, the more the admiration turned into a yearning. I wanted something that I was not supposed to have. It would be wrong." He looked away now.

"You're a fucking idiot," I said.

I pulled both of my coats off and threw them over the arm of the couch. 

"Look," I said, pulling his hand over to my automail arm.

"Do you feel this? Do you see this arm? Look at the purple scar where my port is. You know, sometimes I still feel pain there. It's worse on rainy days."

He traced his fingers over the scar, brushing the port lightly with his gloved hand.

"I didn't come out unscathed, I can assure you of that. I certainly didn't forget what happened, or neglect those feelings out of pride. Just because I chose to hide my feelings from you, doesn't mean they didn't exist. You weren't there for the screaming, the crying, the pain of being ripped apart, but that doesn't mean that none of that happened. I made a mistake that was so much bigger than just me, or my brother. I'm not a better man for growing from the trauma that I caused. It's my responsibility to finish what I started."

He pulled his hand away and rested it on his knee. His eyes met mine again, and I could see he was searching for something.

"I don't think I will ever be able to convince you of how amazing you are," he said. 

"Why do you say the most embarrassing shit," I muttered, feeling the heat rising to my ears.

He smiled at that, and rose to his feet. 

"Neither one of us are perfect, and I'm not asking you to look past the mistakes that I've made. I just want to start over."

He had one hand behind his head, and the other at his waist. He was trying to mask the blush that began to spread from his neck to his cheeks, which was incredibly visible on his pale skin. I never noticed it before, but I never expected that his skin would look so soft. I had always assumed that he was rough, and cold. But it seemed that he was just the opposite. 

Although I felt something new blossoming inside of me, I also felt doom looming over me, as it usually does. The deep dread inside of me still made my chest tighten. The sadness that crushed my thoughts still itched at my brain, as if to remind me that I could never be truly happy, no matter how badly I wanted it. I wanted to run away before it was too late, but I knew that it wasn't possible. I knew that he wouldn't let me. I felt the heaviness weigh down on me again, and it made my skin go numb. I was powerless to the water rushing in to my soul to drown it. I sat there, deep within myself, watching as a thick glaze settled over me. I didn't have a choice of when the emptiness would take over.

Roy gently grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. 

"I feel it too sometimes," he whispered, pulling my body into his. 

"Feel what?" 

"The sadness," he said, putting hand over my head and pushing it into his shoulder.

My senses were flooded by his scent, and I closed my eyes to take it in even more. There was an intimacy about hugs, about holding someone, that was greatly overlooked. My numb skin began to tingle, ever so slightly, as his body radiated warmth. I could feel it trying to wrap around my bones, and swallow the sadness. I could feel him, just enough, that my heart felt warm. Even if it was short lived, and overtaken by the hole deepening inside of me, it was nice to feel it just for that moment; to know what it felt like to fill my lungs with life again.

I have spent a lot of time focused on getting my little brother's body back. In this time, I let my own humanity slip away from me, and traded it for the feeling of being numb. I assumed that being able to feel nothing at all would save me from the pain of my past, and the pain that I caused. But in doing so, I didn't realize that what I had given up could not be easily restored. Once sadness made itself a home inside of me, it decided to completely take over. I didn't mind it at first. It almost felt good to suffer inside, and not have to worry about any one finding out. But then that sadness grew into an emotional pain that could not be relieved. It created so much pressure inside of me, that I felt as though I was going to explode. That's when the panic began. That's when the racing thoughts turned into quiet voices. That's when I truly lost control of myself, and began this self destructive cycle. Physical pain relieves the pressure from the inside. That's when I feel numb. The numbness turns into overwhelming sadness, which turns into insurmountable pain that craves to be relieved again. That's how it repeats itself. I let the voice of anger inside of me tell me that I deserved this, and that was true. I could not deny that I wanted to give in to my own self loathing. But, in moments like this, when I feel him permeating through the sadness, I can't help but feel happy that I am still worthy of this short lived affection. 

"Your hair smells nice," he whispered, "almost sweet."

I felt the warmth surge through me again, as he curled his fingers in my hair. 

"Makes no fucking sense," I murmured into him.

"What?"

"What we're doing. It makes no sense," I said.

"It doesn't have to."


	8. With Confidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I'm still working out some plot ideas in my head. I've made another soft chapter to balance out some of the harshness of the beginning. We will see what I decide to do with the next chapter. Outside of the Ed/Roy arch, there is still a lot to be hashed out with Ed personally, so maybe I will get into that next chapter.  
> Best, and happy reading!! Thanks for sticking along.   
> **

"I have to go."

"Promise you'll come by later?"

"Maybe."  
  
Those were the words we spoke earlier that day. Presently, I was sitting in a dark room, alone, wanting nothing more to disappear from the world. This thought wasn't new. The desire hadn't flooded my brain overnight. It just laid dormant sometimes. I had every resource available to fulfill that desire, but that would be too easy. And, despite how badly I felt at the moment, I knew I would feel worse for leaving Al. Besides, I know what waits for me on the other side, and the idea of spending a timeless eternity with myself did not seem appetizing. Being stuck with just my thoughts, forever, haunted me.

However, I did wonder if there was a way to trade places with Al. Would it be possible to trade one soul for another? Or did the value of his soul so greatly outweigh my own that it would fail? The truth is, I've done so many bad things in my life, that I was scared. What if, one day, my soul was sucked into the gate to keep up with the demand of keeping my brother alive? What would I do then? What if I had depleted the value of myself so much, that my own alchemy would become useless? If I denied the truth inside of myself, would I break the bond between Al and I?

Was it already breaking?

When Al encountered Barry a few years ago, I was so scared that I had lost his trust for good. I was deserving of his hatred, but I wanted it to be for the right reasons. The fact that he thought that I would go through this pain and never ending misery so willingly, for something so meaningless, was initially insulting to me. I would do anything for Al, even if it meant sacrificing everything that I was, and what little I had left. The fact that he could question that after meeting a stranger so briefly, killed me inside. It made me realize that trust truly was fragile, and if it was broken, it would never be the same. The idea of him doubting me, and everything we had, was crushing. When I sat in that hospital bed, listening to the anger shaking in his voice, I felt everything that made me human just vanish from my body. It was an empty shell, with functional units to keep it alive. Deep inside of me, I believed that my brother was capable of hating me for what I had done. I was selfishly hoping that those emotions would never surface, so when they did, I didn't know what to do. 

Even though the air has been cleared, I think about that every day. It scares me to know that I am one royal fuck up away from him hating me forever, and despising my existence. He assures me, from time to time, that it was a lapse in judgement. However, that didn't stop the whispers in my mind from telling me otherwise. Now that I knew that he was capable of hating me, I feared its return. So, when Al returned that night, I quietly went to his side and embraced him. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked.

I shook my head. 

He put the bags that he was carrying on the floor, and sat beside the bed with his arms open, accepting me. I curled into him and imagined that I could feel his skin against my own. These moments put my mind at ease, but simultaneously broke my heart. I was weak in front of him, and in constant need of his reassurance. It was sad. I was the older brother, and yet, I needed his comfort to keep me from falling apart sometimes. Since that day, he left a mess in my head that I couldn't resolve. I guess it wasn't fair to fully place the blame on him. It was all a chain reaction that stemmed from me, and the fatal mistakes that I made. I really couldn't blame him. Now, I lay in the darkness, with his plated arms wrapped around my body, as I sink deeper into him. When we did this, it was silent. No one spoke a word to one another. I was too embarrassed to speak, and I think he understood that. From time to time, he would make me shift my position because he knew that I would eventually become uncomfortable, but would be too stubborn to voice it. When I closed my eyes, Al would assume that I had drifted off to sleep. He would carefully unbraid my hair and sift his fingers through it, attempting to soothe me. His fingers were cold. It made my eyes burn. After sitting with him for so long, he would begin to insulate the heat that I gave off, and that was when I felt the most at ease. That is when I could delude myself into believing that nothing had changed, and we were at home again, sharing a bed after a scary thunderstorm. 

__

When I awoke the next morning, I found myself in my bed with a sheet carefully placed over me. A frown hung itself from my lips, and I swung my legs over the side of the bed.

"You don't have to do that you know," I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"It's no trouble really. Besides, you would get sick sleeping out in the cold all night."

I looked at Alphonse, and felt sick inside. I was undeserving of his concern. 

"I'm fine don't worry. One night on the floor isn't so bad. We've had it worse haven't we? We were on an island together remember?"

Alphonse laughed and shook his head in agreement.

"I remember that. That's when we both cried for hours because we had to kill that cute little bunny."

"We had no choice. We had to survive right?" I laughed.

"I suppose. But that the bunny did too. I can't help but feel bad that we decided that our lives were more important."

That struck a chord with me. It was something that I didn't really think about before. It was the cycle of life though wasn't it? Didn't everything that lived believe that it was more important at some point or another? The rabbits that fed on the grass decided that it was more important than the grass. We decided that we were more important than the rabbits. But what decided that it was more important than us? Well, I mean, other than ourselves?

"Don't dwell on that brother. I was just being silly," Alphonse laughed.

"You have good thoughts you know. You always see the whole picture."

"Oh don't give me so much credit!" He waved his hands, flustered, "It was just a fleeting thought really."

I laughed at his reaction, and he seemed to calm down.

"Are you going to see the Colonel again today?" He asked.

I instantly looked away and flushed.

"Maybe. I didn't really get much done yesterday. He procrastinates too much ans always has stupid shit to say," I muttered.

"Don't be so hard on him. You two should spend more time working together than hating each other. Maybe you would both get more done."

"Okay, I'm done with this conversation now."

Al giggled, and handed me my jacket. I quickly snatched it from him and went to open the door.

"What are you up to today?"

"Riza and I are going to take Black Hayate out today, and then we are going to run some errands together."

He seemed excited, and that was good enough for me. 

We parted ways, and I made my way down to Roy's office again. It was starting to feel strange, just showing up without some kind of paperwork or without being asked. I felt myself tremble again before opening the door, but it was less noticeable this time.

As I carefully pushed the door open, I could see his head peak up from a stack of papers. He smiled at first, and then it melted into something else. It made me uncomfortable, because I knew he was examining me.

"What the fuck are you looking at," I snapped, closing the door behind me.

"I'm sorry, I've just never seen your hair down before," he said quietly.

I instantly felt my face darken, and I quickly turned around. I frantically tried to pull my hair away from my shoulders, but I kept feeling pieces slide out of my grasp.

"There's no need to feel so embarrassed. It's nice," he said.

"Shut up," I said through gritted teeth, searching my pockets for a tie. 

"You should leave it down, just for now."

I whipped around to look at him. 

"Will you shut the fuck up? God, you sound so fucking dumb right now," I huffed.

He smiled softly.

"You sound like you're feeling better."

I rolled my eyes and finally found a hair tie. I quickly pulled it back, not having time to braid it, and let it swing between my shoulders. I plopped on the couch and crossed my arms in front of me.

"Just because we had a little moment doesn't mean that you suddenly have any special privileges you know. I just wish you would stop saying stupid things all the time. I'm not a woman, I don't want to keep my hair down. I don't want to hear about how you do, or don't, like it. I don't care if you like how I look or not. I'm not searching for any kind of approval. Just keep your weird ass comments and thoughts to yourself, and I will do the same," I pressed my tongue into my cheek and narrowed my eyes at him.

"You have thoughts about me Fullmetal?" He said coyly. 

My eyes widened and I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it instantly.

"Please, tell me what you think of me." He relished in my unease. 

"You know how I feel about you bastard. Don't push your luck." I couldn't hide my chagrin, even if I tried, and I knew he was enjoying every minute of it. 

"What if I say please. If I give you one compliment, you have to give me one back," he batted his eyelashes at me, putting his hands under his chin. 

"You're a fucking idiot," I glowered.

"That's not a compliment," he tisked.

I looked away from him and drew my eyebrows together. He was an asshole. All of this was a bad idea. I still hated him just as much as I did then. 

He got up from his chair and took a seat next to me on the couch. He leaned his body in close to my own, and laid his arm across the back of the couch. When he crossed his legs, his foot bumped my knee, and I scooched away from him, still not looking at him. I could feel his body lean in closer to mine. The irritation was slowly starting to build, and I closed my eyes to calm myself down. He gently grabbed the tip of my pony tail with his hand that was stretched behind me, and curled it between his fingers. I whipped my head, pulling it out of his grasp, and shot him a nasty look. He curled his lips into a smile, and seemed quite satisfied with himself, which only pissed me off more. 

"I'll go first if you want," he said, putting his other hand on my knee.

I jerked my leg away from him and crossed it over the other, folding into myself. His smile grew wider. There was nothing that Roy Mustang enjoyed more than teasing someone, and getting under their skin. But, that's when I had a better idea. Why let him win at his own game when I have the ultimate advantage: the element of surprise. 

I unfolded my arms and started to move back towards him. I mimicked him, and put my hand on his knee. His eyes shot down to where my hand was, and I could see him fidget slightly. I put my elbow on the back of the couch, and rested my head in my palm. I looked at him, and moved my hand from his knee, to the collar of his jacket, stroking it slowly before curling a finger underneath of it, and brushing it against his neck. The blush that started to form spread from his neck to his ears, and now I could feel my own lips curl into a devilish smile. 

"I like your confidence," I said to him, moving my gloved hand from his neck, to his lips, slowly brushing my thumb across it. The look on his face was priceless.

I removed my hand from his face and placed in in my lap, and burst into laughter. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and I couldn't help but let another laugh bubble over my lips. 

"I'm sorry, I, I just," I continued to laugh so hard that my ribs began to ache. 

"You're a brat," he muttered.

"I thought you were supposed to compliment me," I said, wiping tears from my eyes. 

"That was until you decided to be malicious," he pouted.

The laughter that had began to settle rippled through me, and I doubled over as the air left my lungs faster than they could fill. I hadn't laughed like this in so long, that I couldn't even remember the last instance that it occurred. Every time I tried to collect myself, I would burst back into laughter. Roy seemed to be increasingly less amused by this, and got up and sat back at his desk. 

"I'm sorry," I wheezed.

"You don't sound sorry."

"Oh my God, are you really going to pretend that your feelings are hurt right now? Big bad Colonel Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, is hurt by a little bit of teasing? Oh come on, give me a break. Isn't this what you wanted anyways? For me to lighten up a bit? You reap what you sough you know," I said. 

He puffed his cheeks and let out a sigh. He shed his jacket and undid the buttons on his sleeves, rolling them up again. I felt myself watching everything that he did, almost captivated. Something definitely changed between us. Even between our normal banter, I could feel that weird feeling surge through my chest again, and it almost made me angry. Of all the people in the world, why did it have to be him? The most cocky, annoying, self righteous bastard on the planet. Why did he have any effect on me at all? Why did I enjoy listening to the sound of his voice all of a sudden? All of this was stupid. I tried to shake the thoughts from my head, but no matter how hard I tried, I softened when he looked at me. It was humiliating. I could lie to myself, and say that it was just because we spent so much time apart, that he had become tolerable again. But, when we had it out before I left, I wasn't upset because he was being an asshole, and yelling at me. I was used to that. I was upset because not once during that conversation did he look me in the eyes, and that's when I knew that he was disappointed. I don't know why that hurt as much as it did at the time, but that's when I began to realize that I wanted more from him than I could ever ask, so I left. 

After I finally came back, I figured things would just go back to being cold, and that he would never look me in the eyes again. But when he did, the same fucking day that I came back, all the feelings that laid dormant inside of me burst into flames. That was the effect that he always had on me. I just couldn't ignore it any longer. 

"I like your resilience," he said. 

He pulled one of the gloves off of his hand and let it fall on the desk. 

"Even if you want to disagree with me, which I know that you will, I still admire it."

"I'm not going to argue with you and flatter your ego, so I'll decide not to comment on it," I said.

He nodded and smiled, looking at me again.

"I'm glad you're back," he said. 

"Shut up."

 

 


	9. Manic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***TW***  
> This chapter is very graphic. Please don't read if it will bring you into a bad place. 
> 
> Sometimes I look at the stuff I wrote when I was in high school, and I just cringe. I really thought that I was hot shit. For those of you who don't know, this is a revival of a story that I wrote when I was 13. It was absolute garbage, but it was a good idea. Since my writing has matured and I've had more time to appropriately process some of these emotions, I feel ready to restart again, which is what you've been reading. I hope you continue to enjoy this story, and for anyone who is looking to start writing again, I encourage you to do so! Thank you for the reviews and kuddos I really appreciate it :)
> 
> Happy reading!  
> **

I spent most of the day talking with Roy, going over what I had done since I left, and how things had changed in Central. It was small talk, and that made me feel more at ease about the situation. There weren't any expectations, and we hadn't really taken the time to define it either. I think I liked it better that way. It's easier to go along with a situation that has no sense of grounded reality to it. It didn't need to be real. It didn't need to be anything. That was comfortable for me. 

But, I couldn't deny that there was something addictive about it. I never realized what it was like to get so close to somebody, even physically. There was nothing special about sitting next to someone, but when I was next to him it was hard to breathe. Every time he would bump into me, or gently stroke a finger across my body, an incredible warmth would surge through my body, making my hair stand up on its end. Everything seemed to come so easily to him, it was almost like I wasn't compatible with humanity. I just couldn't figure out how to function with him. I couldn't describe the feeling, but there was something about it that was pleasant. The only time I craved someone's touch was when I lost my mother, and that really messed with me. It felt as though I was receiving a gift that would soon be ripped from me, and I would be alone again. What would I sacrifice this time to be loved?

When the darkness finally fell outside, we decided it was best to part ways. I didn't intend to spend the entire day in his office, but the time escaped from us so quickly that it couldn't be helped. When he closed his door, I felt my heart drop. We had spent the entire day together, and yet I couldn't help but feel sad that it was over. He offered to walk me back to my room, but I declined. It would be too suspicious. That didn't stop him from pulling me into him one last time and stealing a small kiss from me. His hand gently cupped the side of my face, and he tipped my head upwards, letting his fingers glide smoothly under my chin as our lips parted. My mind spun and when I opened my eyes, I could see him staring into me with so much tenderness, that I couldn't help but feel self-conscious and undeserving. 

When he turned, and began to walk away, my heart began to race. My distraction was gone, and the mask that I wore slipped from my face and shattered. As I started walking back to my room, I could feel the quiet murmur in my head turn into a swirl of whispers that steadily increased in volume. I tried to pick a word to focus on, and ground my thoughts, but the whispering had become so intense, that I couldn't even remember my name. I became aware of my breathing, and it soon became uncontrolled. I increased my pace back to the room. 

_Don't let them see you fall. Boys don't cry._

I was hoping that I could avoid the fall, but it was inevitable. I was so distracted by Roy, that I forgot what it felt like to be provoked by my thoughts. I was blindly walking forward, blissfully unaware of the cliff I was about to walk off of, and descend into consternation. My throat became tight and I still couldn't find a pattern, or a way to soothe my thoughts. I started to pull gently at the ends of my sleeves, tugging them over my palms and running my fingers over the texture. Even though I was walking, I felt as though I hadn't moved at all. The panic began to swell inside of my chest, and it seemed as though it was poisoning my blood stream, sending it coursing to every limb, feeding my body with chaos. 

_Are you going to make it?  Did you expect to be saved from this?_

The part that I hadn't gotten used to yet was leaving. 

It was like spending an entire day basking in the sun, filling my lungs with the cleanest, freshest, air, after running from a storm. I had momentarily found salvation only to be thrust into total darkness; a darkness that was so deep and unrelenting, that it filled me with fear, and suffocated me. It poured in through my nostrils, and coated my throat and lungs with a thick smog that started at my brain, and traveled to the rest of my body. The more I tried to escape it, the deeper it would burrow inside of me, opening the hole and sucking me inside of it. Every emotion felt too intense, and the more I tried to calm my thoughts, the more they began to rage. This was when I could feel myself being dragged away from the surface, and being trapped behind the thick haze, unable to regain control of myself. It was comfortable for a few moments, because there was comfort in sadness. It was something that I was used to, something that I had grown to enjoy. It coated over the rawness of the wounds inflicted by my own words, and made them numb. But in these moments, the comfort was brief. 

That's when the manic sets in.

My hands were shaking as I attempted to open the door, and I could sense the beginning of a breakdown billow out from inside of me. When I finally made it inside, I was met with a vast emptiness and tenebrosity that quickly swallowed me. I pushed myself to the floor, catching myself on my knees and pressing my palms so hard into my eyes, that I could see sparks of color behind them. I grit my teeth together, and pulled my hands away from my eyes. I still couldn't see. I knew that the lights were off, but my mind couldn't accept a rational thought. 

_You're being swallowed whole. You can't escape. The entire world is falling away from you because you're a failure. You're a waste of time, effort, and space. There is no one that wants you here, and no one that needs you here. You just make everything worse, unbearable really. You should just go away. Do everyone a favor, and leave. You can't save Al, you know that, he knows that. He doesn't even trust you. He's just appeasing you because you're so weak and needy. You're just a burden. Everyone pities you._

I pulled at the ends of my hair, and my scalp began to burn from the tension, but it wasn't enough to silence the thoughts. I let a groan escape from my lips, hoping it would release some of the pressure, but I could still feel myself being pulled apart internally, thread by thread. I brought my head backwards, and slammed it into my metal knee. As I made contact, I saw a bright white light flash across my vision, and my body slowly fell backwards, but I didn't hit the ground. I was in a free fall, and the thoughts that were contained inside of my head, now echoed around me. They were so loud, that pressure started building behind my eardrums. I tried to cover my ears, but it was no good. They only became louder. My back finally made contact with the floor, but the whispers remained. I tried to pull myself up, and felt a rush of warmth flow down my face. It smelled like mom. 

This was the part that didn't make any sense to me. I knew that everything was fine, but the sense of doom that violently swept over me made me feel as though I was staring death directly in the face. It felt like there was no time left, that my soul was going to be drained out of me within minutes, and my life would come to an end before I could even process what was happening. That was also the part that made me the most frustrated. I was supposed to be composed. My actions were supposed to be calculated. I was supposed to be a rock that could withstand the crash of the waves against my body. But, every moment of the day, I felt like I was one blink away from insanity. Each thought that itched at my brain implored me to to fall into permanent darkness. The voices inside of me sobbed, begging me, pleading with me, to pick up the object closest to me and bash it into my skull until they finally faded, and took me with it. Between the incessant desire to end my life, and overwhelming sense of duty and commitment towards my brother, I felt so thin and unstable, that a breeze could sweep me away into nothingness, turning my body to ash. 

I held it in for so long. I hid the pain, I rolled with the punches, I pushed it down deeper and deeper until it had no where else to go. When had I become so vulnerable? How had I allowed this to happen? The thin cracks in my smile turned into decay, the burn behind my eyes became a waterfall of emotion that could no longer be held back. I felt so fucking stupid. All the raw emotion inside of me scraped through my veins, twisting and turning until the pain was too real, until I couldn't run away from it anymore. It rang in my ears, infected my mind, it hurt. 

I lifted myself from the floor and prayed for stability. There was nothing to hold onto, nothing to brace myself against. As I stood in the middle of the pitch black room, I felt as though I was in a place that I couldn't recognize, as if nothing around me was real. With my hands in front of me, I blindly stumbled around until I found a wall, and used it to guide me to the door to the bathroom. Light finally poured into the room, and I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I watched it contort into something that I didn't recognize, something so dead and empty that it made me miss who I used to be.

I backed into the wall and slid down, watching my reflection slowly disappear. I searched for the blade that I had tucked away, and let it rest carefully in my palm. It smelled so toxic, and yet so wonderful. I was sick, twisted, high on the drug that was masochism. The fantasies of falling off of bridges, twitching in ditches, of feeling a bullet ricochet through my body, flashed through my mind as I turned the blade over in my hands. I wondered how people would remember me. What would they say to me right now? The fear fostered in me tells me that I don't want to die tonight. The anger boiling inside of me tells me that within a delicate moment, I could taste the sweet release from life, that the choice was mine.

Is this all there is? Am I going to bounce between the hope of fulfillment and the lust of death forever? Will I plead with the silhouettes in the corner until I can't take it anymore? I don't want this life if this is all there is. I breathe deep and hesitate. I let my head fall back against the wall as tears spilled from my eyes. I don't want to live like this. A sob burst from my lips, and I draped my arms over my knees, pulling them into my body. 

_It can all be over soon. You just have to do it._

Another sob racked over my body. I didn't have enough pieces to rebuild myself from this mess that I made. 

_Just a little taste._

I lifted my head and looked at the cursed object again. I was so fucking tired. My eyes felt dry and strained. Everything was in my head. But how could I escape my own mind? How did I get here, to this moment? I had a perfect day, nothing bad even happened. Why did my mind sabotage every good moment in my life? I couldn't enjoy anything, it was all temporary like colors that fade away in the sunlight. I was on a tangent, and was losing control of my actions. I needed this. I deserved this.

I pushed my clothing down, and hastily pressed the object into my skin. The familiar sting clawed its way to the surface of my skin and thick red blood gathered in a thin line, daring to bead out and pour over the edge. I moved to another area, and felt my hands move before my mind could register it. The blood trickled across my skin, and filled my nostrils with that damned metallic smell. This pain, this control, this is what I wanted. It drove me insane, absorbed me into addiction, and brought me to the edge. It was the thrill of my life. The thoughts burning into my brain poured out of the wounds, releasing my inner afflictions. There was nothing I could do anymore. The contract that I made was inscribed so neatly that it was impossible to ever forget the beauty of sin. 

Tears dangled from my eyelashes, and strands of my hair are hanging with sweat as it beads from my forehead. I stared at the silver blade as it gleamed in the dim light of secrecy. There is no deliverance, there is no love, there is no hope, just sour taste in my mouth. As the blood falls silently to the floor, and pools around the welts in my skin, I come to the surface, and feel oddly sober. That's when the sobbing begins again, as I see what I've done. The stench of loss is so strong, that I want to rock on my knees and wake up from this nightmare that I created for myself. 

My chest is so hollow, that I can hear my breathing echoing inside of me. My finger tips are cold, and stiff. The numbness diffuses through me, and I am left alone with my regrets. With all these scars, and this blade in my hand, I become bitterly aware of how badly I want my hand to be held in this moment. To be loved in such a way, to give my life value, it was more than I deserved now. I gave up those rights long ago when I sold myself to my selfish desires. I wanted to drift backwards into darkness until I was no longer in sight of myself. I don't like who I've become. I've become a stranger to myself, to this body. This feeling of being six feet under, it's all I know. 

In this moment, I am more confused now than I was before. Why did it make me so fucking happy to know that I was so sad and utterly lost? Simultaneously, I am repulsed and satisfied. I am proud of the agony that I am able to put myself through. It was gratifying to be pushed so far to the point of breaking. And yet, I am disgusted that I give into these thoughts so easily. I am sickened by the euphoria that permeates through me with each infliction. My stomach twists as I look down at my body, and feel relief. What the fuck was wrong with me? 

 

I didn't want him to see this. I didn't want him to be a passenger to my road of self destruction. I couldn't bring another person down with me. It would defeat the purpose of reconciling with my soul. It would destroy me to put him through a fraction of what I put myself through. I could just imagine the look of shock and anguish on his face if he saw these scars. The idea makes me lurch forward and heave. I look at the blood spattered tile underneath of me, and my mind begins to spin again. Another wave of numbness comes over me, and my eyes blur and refocus. I start to clean the mess on the floor, and shed the rest of my clothes to wash away the remnants of my immorality. 

The cool air hits my skin as I turn the water off, and step out of the shower. I put on a few loose items of clothing, and lower myself to my bed. The light from the bathroom filters into the room, and I'm staring at the ceiling, seeking that stability again. Footsteps approach the door, and Alphonse quietly enters the room.

"Are you awake?" He whispered.

"Yeah," I said.

"I had a really good day today brother. I hope you did too," he said cheerfully. 

The tears bite at my eyes again, and I turn on my side.

"I'm really glad that you had a good day Al. You deserve to be happy every day."

"I'm always happy because I have you brother."

I swallow thickly, and feel the warmth of the tears stream down my face.

"I'm happy I have you too Al."


	10. The Weight of a Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it has been a while. Fear not, I have not abandoned this story! I have just been working hours that are not compatible with human life :)  
> But, now that I've had some time to myself and to think, I am ready to post another chapter. Nothing super long, but something to look forward to, as I have added some rising action to the plot! Yes, this story actually does have a plot, other than Ed/Roy. I hope you enjoy the direction that I am taking this story in! Thanks for the reads and kuddos so far, I appreciate it, and thanks for sticking with the story. Happy reading!
> 
> __

When I woke up the next morning, I felt hollow. It was almost as if I didn't exist, and that when I opened my eyes, I wasn't truly awake. I blinked away the fog over my eyes, and peered up at the ceiling. My limbs were numb, and I couldn't find the strength to move them. I turned my head to see Al in the corner. He didn't seem to be aware of my existence. He was probably resting his mind. 

That was what I wanted to do, rest my mind. When I tried to think of the last twenty-four hours, nothing came to mind. Everything was blank, and I couldn't focus on one specific idea. Every morning when I wake up, it seems to be the same day. I have not made it any further, I am not where I should be. But, I was not prepared with a resolution to this issue. I spend most of my time masking my emotions, filling in the cracks, and just surviving. But it was becoming draining to continue to live for the sake of living. There was an underlying purpose to my life, but I wasn't working towards that goal. I did my studies, and spent time traveling to look into what I knew would be dead ends. I was just not prepared to face the inevitable, which was the epic let down. 

So, today would be different. I was sick of being this pathetic person in this bed, with all this lonely space. I was tired of pretending that my life would ever be normal, or even amount to anything. I had neglected my duty to Al for too long. I had lived experiences that he would never taste. I had absorbed his childhood and teenage years. I had to at least give him a taste of being a normal kid, with normal relationships, normal prospects, and even the chance at having a future doing something great.

I think what most people don't realize is that Al was always the better brother. He is far more intelligent, more compassionate, caring, and a damn good fighter. He was better than me in every way, and the only reason people gave me the time of day is because of my organic nature. I was approachable, I had a face that people could see, eyes that they could look into. I took those things from him. I took away the hope from beneath his skin, and the opportunity for people to love him in the way that he deserved. If I could wipe myself from the face of the world, and give him everything that I have had in these last few years, I would do it in a heartbeat. But, today, I will finally start looking for the answers that scare me. I will face my mortality, and look in the darkness of truth. If I must give myself for him, then so be it. I'm not afraid anymore. My life in these last few years has been a waste of time and potential that he could have had. I was selfish for wanting a chance, when he was the one who deserved it. 

I finally felt warmth beneath my skin, and lifted myself from the bed. I accepted that each day may finally be my last, but at least my parting could mean something this time. I grabbed my clothes from the floor, quickly pulled them on, and left the dorm room. I made my way passed his office, not even attempting to say hello, and went to the library.

"Where are those documents that Roy pulled from the archives the other day?"

Sheska looked up at me from behind her large, round lenses, staring blankly with confusion. 

"Uh, I think I still have them. Just give me a minute."

She came back with a stack of documents, and I flipped through them until I found the report. 

"This person, do you have any record of them?"

"Elias Sauer? I could look. Is there something specific that you're looking for?"

"Listen, I just need any information that you have on him. I want all of it."

Her expression became nervous, and she quietly nodded her head and disappeared again. When she came back, there was only a single folder in her hand.

"There really isn't much on him, but you're more than welcome to look through what I have," she said softly, handing me the file.

I nodded at her and took the folder, eventually settling down into a small corner of the library. The first page had a small photo of him clipped to the front, with a small report on his research. He was not a scientist, but a philosopher. His essays seemed to be heavily focused on the ethics of alchemy in society, science, and the military. After his paper on the war in Ishval, he was no longer published. I was starting to wonder if that was of his own accord, or if it was a part of something larger. The deeper I dug, the more it seemed like he was being kept quiet. He was relocated from Central to a small village in the middle of no where. His certification was revoked on the grounds of misconduct, but there was clarification on that. He was no longer allowed to teach at universities, and his state funding was cut as well. There was something that he knew, and I wanted to know what it was. 

I hastily packed up the documents, and went back to the desk.

"Thanks for your help. Don't let anyone know what I was looking at. It's imperative that this is kept a secret okay?"

She was visibly uncomfortable, but agreed.

As I made my way out of the building, I felt a surge of energy rush through me that I hadn't felt in years. It was almost like my soul was reinvigorated, and that each step that I took actually mattered. 

When I made it to the train station, I felt a sinking feeling, and a bit of guilt. I usually didn't travel anywhere without Al, or at least without letting him know where I was going. But I knew if I let him come with me, or if I told him what I was planning, he would never allow it to happen. Sometimes we give into these selfish desires with the need for preservation, but I had to do what was good for Al, even if it wasn't what he wanted. As his older brother, sometimes I had to do things that were going to make him upset, but it was my responsibility to give him the best chance at life. So if this made him angry, it would be okay, because ultimately he would benefit from my decision, and he would come to understand that one day. 

__

There was something about this place that was ominous. There was nothing here. Maybe a few house, but they all looked empty. I had passed by what must have been a farm at one time, but it was barren, and overgrown. Everything looked run down, and decrepit. This seemed like the place where things came to die.

As I continued to look around, I became aware of the deafening silence of this place. There were no birds, squirrels, strays, nothing. It was as if life ceased to exist. It actually made me shiver. If something were to happen here, no one would ever know. That seemed dangerous.

I peeked inside all of the homes that I came across, and they were all empty. They appeared to have been untouched and unoccupied for years. Layers of dust coated the surfaces, there were no signs of personal belongings, not even a picture frame. The furniture was outdated, and had begun to fall apart over time. Mold had seeped through the walls, and ceilings had started to cave in. The more I observed and searched, the more I began to think that something happened here. 

After what seemed like hours, I was starting to come to terms with the idea that Elias no longer lived here, and that I had reached another dead end. I started to turn back, and then it became apparent to me that I actually wasn't sure where "back," was. The roads were overgrown, and the paths that once existed were not clear. I had aimlessly wandered for so long, that I had lost track entirely of where I was.

With a heavy sigh, I turned on my heel and went forward, hoping that I would come across something familiar, and eventually, could piece together the way back. But with the natural light starting to dwindle, I knew that I wouldn't get very far. This isn't the worst position that I have been in though. I've been stranded more times than I could count, hundreds of miles away from civilization. Eventually, I would find my way back. Until then, I decided it would be best to find a place to bunker down for the night, until I could start again in the morning. 

It didn't feel right to stay in what was once someone's home, so I settled on one of the abandoned barns. The doors were heavy and partially obstructed. Without much effort, I was able to push my way inside. There wasn't much around, just a few tools that had become rusted from the elements, and some bails of hay. I took off my red coat and laid it down on the earth, making a small bed for myself. I looked around me, and there were lots of holes and places where the structures had started to wear and fall apart. Part of me wondered if this roof would fall in on me while I slept. I think that would be the least expected way to die, for anyone, let alone the person who has been in active combat for almost half of their life. 

I felt a small chuckle escape at the prospect, and turned on my side. It was nice to be in an area where no one knew of me, or my mistakes. This area was totally secluded and blissfully unaware of my presence in the world. It almost made me feel normal. I wondered what Al was doing right now. He was probably worried, but wouldn't start to freak out until tomorrow. I'm sure he asked the colonel of my whereabouts, and I'm sure his confusion only made Al feel more concerned. Both of them were probably still talking now, trying to retrace my steps. But they would have no way to know. Even if they had asked Sheska, and she spilled, I took a few of the pages with me. They wouldn't be able to figure out where I was even if they wanted to. Was that cruel of me? Perhaps. But I wanted to make sure that there was no one who could talk me out of this, and no one who could make my choices for me. This was entirely on me, and that sense of power over myself was freeing. 

Sleep began to pull on my eyes, and I felt myself slowly slip deeper, and further, away from the surface. 

_"What are you planning to do? " The voice spoke to me._

_"Trade my mistakes," I said plainly._

_"Are you trying to get rid of us?"_

_"I'm trying to make you useful. You've lead me down a path of destruction, but in doing so, you've actually helped me."_

_"You can't escape. You will be stuck with your thoughts forever, no matter what side of existence you end up on."_

_"That doesn't concern me anymore. I don't mind what happens to me,as long as I make this life matter somehow. I can't live for myself, but I can make my life mean something. I thought that I had no value, and that all of my sins made me dead to this world, but it only made me dead to myself. A soul is a soul, and no matter how tarnished it is, it carries weight. My soul is heavier now than it ever was before, so maybe now it can be traded for something."_

_"Interesting. Have you ever thought that maybe you don't have a soul? That your life is purely fueled on the gas of your own decay, and that one day it will run out and you'll just fade away from this world?"_

_I laughed._

_"I used to be afraid of that. But my own consciousness proves that to be otherwise false. Even if my life doesn't mean anything to you, or to myself, it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. There is truth in my existence, and I will use that to barter for something."_

_"How can you be sure that this will turn out the way that you want it to?"_

_"I can't," I shrugged, "But if I never try, then I will be worthy of the truth."_


	11. Chapter Eleven: A Fork in the Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been missing in action for a while but I promised I was not abandoning the story. Crazy world we live in right now. Might as well take advantage of the free time I have now.   
> I hope some of you are still following and I am sorry for going so long without posting. We are getting towards the end now. I hope this chapter was worth the wait.   
> As always thanks for following along and happy reading.

Light began to filter through the slits of the barn, and eventually caused me to rouse. I blinked away the sleepiness from my eyes and pushed myself up onto my elbows. My joints felt creaky and my body was sore from sleeping on the ground, but somehow it was the best I had slept in ages. 

I rose to my feet and looked around the barn. There didn’t seem to be anything here either. It didn’t matter where I looked, everything appeared to be abandoned.

This realization made me feel disheartened, but I hadn’t totally given up yet. I pulled the barn door open and felt a gush of wind pass my face and something strike a board behind me. My body instantly reacted and I transmuted my metal arm in retaliation.

From beyond a bush, I could see an older man standing with a bow and arrow drawn.

“I’m not here to fight I’m looking for somebody,” I yelled, bracing my arm across my face.  
“They couldn’t afford to send a real soldier out here so they sent some teenage midget?” He growled, relaxing and withdrawing his weapon.

A surge of anger swept through me and I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re calling so small that you could mistake me for a small child lost at a store? I’ll have you know I can reach the top shelf by myself thank you!” I screamed, releasing pent up anger that had been stored in my body for months.

“First of all,” he started, now walking forward, “I didn’t say any of that. Second of all, you.”

My eyes twitched as he came closer, but I had to let it go and regain my composure.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Well, shouldn’t I be asking that? And what year is it? I have never seen such ridiculous clothing in my entire life, and as you can probably tell I am old. What have they been doing out there? Is all humanity lost?”

The insults were annoying, and took a lot of self control to ignore, which I was actually quite proud of, but I was starting to think I had found my man.

“Are you Dr. Sauer?”

“I haven’t heard anyone use my name so formally in 30 years. So stop. Call me Elias,” he muttered.

I outstretched my hand to offer a handshake. He examined the metal closely and took my hand.

“What did you do?” He asked curiously, shaking my hand slowly.

“I made a mistake. I was kinda hoping you could help me with that,” I said quietly, withdrawing my hand uncomfortably. 

He shook his head sadly.

“You’re awfully young. Kids shouldn’t even have access to alchemy. It’s just too powerful. It takes years of training and studying to understand the weight of transmutation. Even with my dedication and warnings, people still abused my research. I may not be a scientist, but maybe that’s how I saved my humanity.”

I looked away from him, feeling the shame spread through my body. I was foolish to think that I knew everything as a kid. It was my arrogance that caused Al to be sacrificed.

“Listen, we should talk. I don’t know what you want, but it would be nice to have some company for a change. And even if you’re here to kill me, it wouldn’t be so bad. What’s the point of living if your life doesn’t mean anything?”

His words pierced me, and I could feel my mind racing with thoughts. It was impossible to think that someone could understand. I didn’t want to get my hopes up. After everything that I had done, he could be disgusted with me and throw me out. But, I came here to try. 

“That would be good,” I agreed, and we started to make our way through the unknown. 

\----

When we arrived, we made a point to cut the small talk and get to the point of why I was here. He had explained to me that people were not happy with his analysis of the war, and the idea that alchemy shouldn’t be used for anything more than infrastructure and resources. After the rumor had leaked that research was being done to convert souls into power, he had made a point to stand against it. He poured months of research and time into making a paper explaining the precedence this would set, and to express that a human soul was not to be tampered with. If it could be used for power, then what was the point of having one at all? What made souls so special was their bond to humanity.

But, his paper was destroyed and he was banished. All his work was “lost” and he was no longer allowed to publish. He had gone against the corruption of the government and had seen first hand the power that people held over others. It was as if only a few people in the world truly mattered, and everyone else was just fodder. When he arrived here, it used to be lively. But he realized that other people had been sent here too, and were disappearing just as quickly as they arrived. It was then that he understood the gravity of his punishment. Not only was he being silenced, but he was going to watch powerlessly as human beings were being taken for the philosopher’s stone research. It was as if they had said, “Now what are you going to do about it?”

I felt sick. Truly sick.

I spent my life searching for this thing that was killing people so that I could save my brother. I was looking for something else to sacrifice for my own selfishness. It made my stomach turn to a pit of acid. 

“I would never want to use another human being for my own good. I made that choice once without realizing it. I will never do it again,” I felt my voice trembling.

“Is it possible to give myself to save my brother,” I asked, almost pleading with him, “Because I don’t want to spend another second breathing a breath that should be his.”

I could see his features soften, and he put an arm on my shoulder.

“That’s not the answer son,” he said sadly. I could hear the pain and helplessness in his voice.

“The gate doesn’t want you. Truth is harsh and difficult. That’s why people create Gods. Gods have emotions and can be compelled. Truth cannot be. You cannot plead with it, you cannot change it. The gate will not accept a soul for a soul. That’s why your bodies have suffered. It will take something meaningful from you,” he spoke slowly, trying to make me understand.

“But my life means something and so does his,” my voice strained in my throat and I could feel tears welling up inside of me.

“I know. I do. Listen kid, the truth isn’t always about being fair, it’s about being right. What is right is not always fair. You have to give up something that is a part of your life, and your soul, but it cannot be a soul. That’s what people will never understand. The soul is not to be tampered with or converted. It’s meant to live.”

“Please, come back with me. We can do research together. I can help you, we can undo all that is happening,” I grabbed his hands tightly.

His fingers slipped through mine and he put his hands on his lap. His gaze met the floor.

“I cannot come back. This is my punishment. I learned about the gate because I tampered with it too. I learned this from making my own mistakes. I had a daughter that meant everything to me. I taught her alchemy, and she was drafted for that forsaken war. When I wrote that paper, she was MIA, and never came home. If I had left things alone, she would never have gotten involved to begin with,” he said solemnly.

“You can’t just give up. That’s not what she would have wanted.”

“If I had knew what she wanted, she would still be here. I refuse to will my own selfish endeavors on anyone else. I will live here, and I will take my last breath here. You have to find your own way. Make your own peace. I cannot do that for you.”

I felt the color drain out of my face. It seemed that I had failed again. It didn’t matter where I went, or how far I traveled, I could never save Alphonse. I have doomed him.

“You’re not at a dead end. You’re at a fork in the road. You’re next choice will be your most important kid. What will you do with that information?”

I snapped out of my self pity and looked at him. He was smiling, and I could feel sincerity radiating from his tone.

“Thank you. I will make sure to choose wisely for us both,” I said.


End file.
